


The Hero's Journey 3.

by hennethgalad



Category: The Silmarillion
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: the true nature of Celegorm becomes apparent to Glorfindel.





	The Hero's Journey 3.

Matryoshka Challenge. The Hero's Journey 3

a character has something that everyone wants.

 In the golden light of Laurelin, with the fresh north wind lifting their hair, Glorfindel took Celegorm to gather watercress, wicker baskets in hand. After a time Celegorm began to whistle, his voice was true and the melody, though unfamiliar, was haunting. Glorfindel paused and said  
 'May I ask what tune you are singing ?'  
Celegorm smiled proudly 'My brother Maglor made it, it is called 'Diamond Dust.' Though personally ' he lowered his voice 'I find the diamond dust irritating beyond measure. It gets everywhere, it is sharp and abrasive, and if you ever get a cut, it gets inside it and makes it worse. ' he shrugged 'That is one of the reasons why I wish to follow in the train of Oromë, and leave the city. '  
 'The melody is beautiful, may I ask that you sing it for us ? My father is especially fond of music, and I know we all love your brother's songs. It would bring us joy to hear a new tune of his.'  
 'I would be delighted to share my brother's work with you.' Celegorm laughed 'If it were not for the Silmarils, Maglor would be the toast of my family. Alas, I myself have the imagination of a rock, and the musical ability of a stone. But I am good with animals; almost all creatures seem to like me. '

 Glorfindel felt the regret in Celegorm; music was life for many elves, and those like his father and Celegorm, whose aspirations far outstripped their abilities, left him choked with pity. He sought a way to change the mood of Celegorm as they reached the first of the peach trees. A cluster of particularly tempting fruits hung over the path, he reached up and swung the branch down and gestured to Celegorm, who picked a couple with an eager smile. As they bit into the sweet peaches, Glorfindel noticed the yellowfish mushrooms growing on the tree. He smiled to himself, here was the perfect opportunity to assess the knowledge of Celegorm.

 'Do you see that mushroom ? Do you know whether it can be eaten ?' he asked.  
Celegorm snorted 'Nobody eats yellowfish, they are edible but bitter, they will not harm you. I have long known all that I would know of plants, my interest is in animals. I do not know why my mother has sent me here, perhaps she wishes to impress Oromë, but I really do not see what I can learn from a farm boy.' he glanced at Glorfindel  and wiped peach juice from his chin with a careless hand. 

 Glorfindel took out a cloth and wiped his own face and hands, dismayed and insulted by the dismissive tone in Celegorm's voice. He was about to indignantly defend the work of the farm, when the thought of his dear family, all saying "do not be hasty" floated before his mind. He paused to think, throwing his peach stone far out into the meadow, where a loose straggle of uncultivated peach trees of varying ages marked the times when others had stood eating under this prized tree, and cast their stones into the wild. He was comforted by the sight, and by the familiar thought that some of those stones had been thrown by he himself; and the glow of the warmth of home cleared his mind.  
   
 He thought of Nerdanel the Wise, wife of Fëanor and mother of Maglor. The idea of her trying to 'impress' Oromë by wasting her son's time made no sense. She had kept harmony among her seven passionate, headstrong sons, her subtlety was legendary. He wondered why Celegorm had been sent to Little Gold Tree, and wondered what, if anything, Oromë himself would think. He had a sudden vision of the world from the perspective of a Vala like Oromë, to whom elves must seem like cats did to elves, running about underfoot mewling in high-pitched voices. A thought began to form in his mind, he stood as still as a tree; Celegorm was looking curiously at him, but he tried to empty his mind, letting his awareness of the orchard fill him. He thought of ents, the great obsession of his mother, who had known many when she had served Yavanna in her youth. He tried to feel the sturdy tenacity of the tree, the roots gripping the soil like toes, the branches outstretched to bask in the Light; he wondered at the ephemeral grasses, the fleeting flowers, rushing through life in the blink of an elven eye, and he thought he could understand the intention of Nerdanel the Wise.

 'I wonder, then,' he said to Celegorm at last 'Whether your mother did not send you here to alter your perspective.'   
 Celegorm frowned 'Alter my... do you presume to criticise me, farm boy ? Do you forget who I am ? Perhaps she sent me here to teach you a lesson !'  
 He glared at Glorfindel, who frowned. They faced each other like cats before a fight, Glorfindel felt his fists clench, his heart raced steadily in his chest, he felt cool, tense but remote, he had not been attacked in anger since the brawls of his childhood. But he could feel the heaviness in the air between them like a hot dry breath of wind, his own breathing was almost audible as his body prepared itself for the attacker. The enemy... He felt that his initial delight in Celegorm had turned to an almost instinctive disdain. He looked again at the yellowfish mushrooms, whose delicious appearance contasted so starkly with their slimy texture and bitter taste. Celegorm, he thought, slimy and bitter...

  His amusement showed on his face, Celegorm became enraged, he snarled, saliva hung dripping between the teeth in his upper and lower jaws, he threw himself onto Glorfindel and wrestled him to the ground. The fight was brief, for though Celegorm was as fit as any canditate for the train of Oromë the hunter, Glorfindel had laboured on the farm every day of his life, and was not merely as large as Celegorm, but also well-knit and sturdy; his work-hardened muscles swiftly overpowered Celegorm, and pressed his face into the dust of the road.

 'You will now apologise.' said Glorfindel flatly. Celegorm made a final effort to free himself, but Glorfindel had twisted his arm, and the movement made Celegorm's breath hiss with pain. Glorfindel loosened his grip a little, but did not move. There was a silence. Glorfindel could feel the lithe body rigid under him, and despite his animosity, now turning into loathing, he felt desire. He knew then beyond doubt that for him, the beauty of the male was his heart's desire, and that unless something altogether extraordinary happened, he would be leaving the farm, and never returning with a wife and child, to build a home of his own nearby.  
 Celegorm had felt the change in Glorfindel and struggled anew, but there was no shifting the rock-like grip. He sighed and lowered his head to the ground.   
 'Very well, I apologise, only get off me, for Eru's sake !'

 Glorfindel leaped to his feet and brushed the dust from knees and elbows. Celegorm was in a sorrier state, his tunic was torn and filthy, his lip had split, blood trickled down his chin, his disordered hair was thick with dust. He shook his head vigorously and brushed angrily at his ruined tunic. Glorfindel tried successfully not to laugh, but he could not suppress his attraction. Celegorm had inherited much of the beauty of his father, blended with the appearance of the serenity that his wise mother personified; he was strikingly handsome. Glorfindel gritted his teeth and knew that it was time to leave his perfect home, and seek out someone as beautiful as the slimy Celegorm, but someone that he actually liked. 


End file.
